Chapter 3
The cold sensation of a wet cloth on my forehead was my first conscious awareness of my surroundings. For a confused moment, I thought I was still in the hospital. I heard men talking in hushed voices. “I can’t have a fainting woman around here. What if she falls down the stairs or drowns herself in the bathtub. Sorry Wade, but I’m changing my mind,” a haughty masculine voice said.
Wade replied, “Perry, look mate, she drove a lot of hours to get here. She told me on the phone that she has been ill and that her doctor recommended that she take a vacation. She’s a real sweet lady once you get to know her. I’ll check on her every day. Come on, you can’t go back on your word, mate.”
I interrupted from the couch that they had laid me upon, “I’m okay now. I just overdid it with the driving. Not eating breakfast didn’t help either.”
Wade rushed over to help ease me into a sitting position. He hugged me tightly, “Missy, you feeling better? You gave me a fright that took twenty years off my life, fainting like you did.”
I smiled at him weakly; “I am fine. Really—I am.”
Looking over at the tall blonde man who stood as if made of stone, I tried to reassure him. My eyes roamed his massive chest, noticing that he had put on a denim work shirt, which he left unbuttoned. “Mr. O’Brien I presume. I don’t often go around fainting. You don’t have to worry about me causing any problems, because I won’t be any trouble. I was involved in an accident in Charlotte a month ago. I need recuperation and rest, but am no great health risk. I promise.”
He stood scratching his goatee, mulling over what I had said for a few minutes. Finally he spoke, “No problem, miss. I can’t help but be a little worried. I am responsible for whoever rents from me.”
The men exchanged looks before Perry finally said, “So do you pack like most women and have a hundred bags for me to carry inside?”
Wade let out a long sigh of relief. “I’ll help you, Mate,” he said to Perry O’Brien. To me while patting my knee fatherly fashion, he said, “Now Missy, you lie back and rest while we men bring your bags indoor.”
Who was he kidding? Like most women, I was not going to let two men lug my suitcases and bags into the house without proper feminine supervision.
Working in tag-team format, they had my things unloaded in no time. I over heard Wade tell Perry that he wished his old lady traveled as lightly. My laptop computer was the heaviest item. Perry laid it on the kitchen dinette table.
“I think that’s everything,” he said. “You’ll find towels and linen in the hallway closet. I had a lady clean this place thoroughly this morning. She comes to clean every Thursday. So you don’t have to worry about a lot of housework while you’re here. Please put your trash in the green barrel under the carport on Tuesday morning, because that’s when the garbage collector comes by. Guess that’s all. I’ll let Wade handle the rest.” With that comment, he left to return to his boathouse.
Wade smiled at me, “Don’t worry. He ain’t as tough as he acts. He’ll be close by, quiet as a mouse but there if you need him. Girlie, you look like you could eat the south end of a northbound jackass. Come on, I am a-taking you to lunch.”
I let him drive my car to a diner on the other side of the island. We had soup and salad. As we ate, I watched in amusement as Wade showed me off to the locals who were there and curious to whom I was and why I was with him. After our meal, he drove me to his office where we signed papers and took care of the legal end of my stay at Perry O’Brien’s Irish Pirate. The last stop in town was for supplies and food. I got enough to last several days. Exhaustion was overtaking me; I knew that I would need a few days to recover from the grueling drive to the coast. Wade got me settled in the cottage. Before leaving, he promised to check on me in a day or so and for me to get some sleep. I heeded his advice and took a long nap.
Wade replied, “Perry, look mate, she drove a lot of hours to get here. She told me on the phone that she has been ill and that her doctor recommended that she take a vacation. She’s a real sweet lady once you get to know her. I’ll check on her every day. Come on, you can’t go back on your word, mate.”
I interrupted from the couch that they had laid me upon, “I’m okay now. I just overdid it with the driving. Not eating breakfast didn’t help either.”
Wade rushed over to help ease me into a sitting position. He hugged me tightly, “Missy, you feeling better? You gave me a fright that took twenty years off my life, fainting like you did.”
I smiled at him weakly; “I am fine. Really—I am.”
Looking over at the tall blonde man who stood as if made of stone, I tried to reassure him. My eyes roamed his massive chest, noticing that he had put on a denim work shirt, which he left unbuttoned. “Mr. O’Brien I presume. I don’t often go around fainting. You don’t have to worry about me causing any problems, because I won’t be any trouble. I was involved in an accident in Charlotte a month ago. I need recuperation and rest, but am no great health risk. I promise.”
He stood scratching his goatee, mulling over what I had said for a few minutes. Finally he spoke, “No problem, miss. I can’t help but be a little worried. I am responsible for whoever rents from me.”
The men exchanged looks before Perry finally said, “So do you pack like most women and have a hundred bags for me to carry inside?”
Wade let out a long sigh of relief. “I’ll help you, Mate,” he said to Perry O’Brien. To me while patting my knee fatherly fashion, he said, “Now Missy, you lie back and rest while we men bring your bags indoor.”
Who was he kidding? Like most women, I was not going to let two men lug my suitcases and bags into the house without proper feminine supervision.
Working in tag-team format, they had my things unloaded in no time. I over heard Wade tell Perry that he wished his old lady traveled as lightly. My laptop computer was the heaviest item. Perry laid it on the kitchen dinette table.
“I think that’s everything,” he said. “You’ll find towels and linen in the hallway closet. I had a lady clean this place thoroughly this morning. She comes to clean every Thursday. So you don’t have to worry about a lot of housework while you’re here. Please put your trash in the green barrel under the carport on Tuesday morning, because that’s when the garbage collector comes by. Guess that’s all. I’ll let Wade handle the rest.” With that comment, he left to return to his boathouse.
Wade smiled at me, “Don’t worry. He ain’t as tough as he acts. He’ll be close by, quiet as a mouse but there if you need him. Girlie, you look like you could eat the south end of a northbound jackass. Come on, I am a-taking you to lunch.”
I let him drive my car to a diner on the other side of the island. We had soup and salad. As we ate, I watched in amusement as Wade showed me off to the locals who were there and curious to whom I was and why I was with him. After our meal, he drove me to his office where we signed papers and took care of the legal end of my stay at Perry O’Brien’s Irish Pirate. The last stop in town was for supplies and food. I got enough to last several days. Exhaustion was overtaking me; I knew that I would need a few days to recover from the grueling drive to the coast. Wade got me settled in the cottage. Before leaving, he promised to check on me in a day or so and for me to get some sleep. I heeded his advice and took a long nap.
penned by Painter Lady at 10:07 PM
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